


Off The Rails

by cvioleta



Series: Metamorphosis [2]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Control Issues, F/M, Harley isn't crazy, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light Dom/sub, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:05:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvioleta/pseuds/cvioleta
Summary: By request, sequel toEverything She Wants- probably best read first as I do stray from canonDespite her best judgment, psychiatrist Dr. Harleen Quinzel got way too involved with her patient, the Joker. But she's still a law-abiding citizen and it was just a slip, right?   She's going to pull herself together and get back on track.  She's sure she is.  He doesn't need people, and he's going to walk away.  After he watches her a bit.Note: I think the idea that Harley went crazy from a dip in acid or an ECT treatment is too convenient.  I'm more interested in analyzing the very real psychological concept that whatever you surround yourself with can become normal, and that's how I write her.





	1. Chapter 1

Her life was spinning out of control.

Harleen looked at herself in the mirror as she finished drying her hair.  How could she possibly look so normal on the outside?  She certainly couldn’t keep her thoughts straight.  She had thought she was distracted yesterday afternoon…right now she wished for the clarity of yesterday afternoon. 

She leaned forward and inspected her lip closely in the mirror. It looked normal enough; ice had done the trick and she could cover the bruising with lipstick.  She looked normal enough to go to work, she supposed.  It was just that going to the airport, hopping on a flight to South America and hiding out the rest of her life under a fake name, waitressing at some club, seemed wiser.  Going to work seemed like going for a walk on a tightrope, a walk she was ill-prepared for.  The odds she would crash to the ground one way or another were excellent. 

She knew she had crossed a line and she couldn’t go back. It was one thing to flirt with the Joker, and kissing him back could perhaps be shrugged off as a momentary indiscretion (although even the knowledge of that, she thought, would be enough to end all the major relationships in her life).  She could explain away the information she’d omitted from her session reports by arguing there was a therapeutic purpose she was working toward and she just couldn’t risk upper management’s interference. 

 _The end justifies the means,_ as the Joker had said.  I mean, that was why she had been assigned to him in the first place.  Dr. Arkham had noted that he was more intelligent than most of their staff and that perhaps Harleen was one of the few who could keep up with him.

 _Oh, I kept up with him all right,_ she thought, her eyes closing and her knees going weak again at the memory. She had to stop thinking about it, but it was impossible not to.  She felt the swollen bruising on the inside of her lower lip every time she spoke, she couldn’t make the simplest move without feeling the ache between her legs.  And every bit of pain she felt brought on a corresponding shiver of pleasure and memory. She could think of little else.   

There would be no explaining this.  If any of that was on camera…she didn’t know if the break room was under surveillance or not…or if the guards had noted anything unusual when they walked in, her career was over.  Or if the Joker himself had said something. Men liked to brag, that was a given. 

She was terrified to go to work.  What if they knew? And what would happen when she saw _him_ today?  It was his usual session day and she had no good reason to cancel it.

Harleen remembered a line from one of her favorite old movies, Gone With The Wind.  “You're like the thief who isn't the least bit sorry he stole, but is terribly, terribly sorry he's going to jail.”  That was painfully accurate. She didn’t feel guilt, even though she ought to. She was just worried about the consequences. 

 

* * *

 

When she got to her office, she was relieved to see no new emails had come in since she left her apartment. Certainly, if someone in management knew, there would be some sort of request to meet with her by now.  She wondered if they reviewed the surveillance tapes on a certain day of the week, or if they did it at all.  That’s something she would have to try to find out.  Perhaps she had a couple of days to make any footage disappear.  _J probably has someone here who could do that, he has someone for everything else,_ she thought. 

She sat down and started reviewing and answering the e-mails that had come in, but her concentration was nonexistent. Harleen felt like an ADHD teenager off her meds.  She could read a line or two, and then she was back to thinking about him.  She was sitting at her desk smiling idiotically when Dr. Leland walked in. 

“Look at that smile on your face!  Well, I guess it’s not surprising, I heard the news.”  Joan was beaming at her, which was unusual to say the least, and Harleen was momentarily completely confused.  The news?  What news?  She certainly wouldn’t be smiling if she knew what had happened last night. Then it hit her and she looked at the ring on her left hand and tried to hide her sigh of relief.

“Ben asked me after he got back from his trip to Dubai,” she told the older psychiatrist, plastering a big fake smile on her face.  “His mom and I have been looking at wedding venues and I think we picked one out.”

 _Good job, Harleen!_ The voice of Logical Harleen broke into her thoughts.  _You’re a good liar, but you’re going to have to become a great liar, so I’m glad you’re practicing!_

Logical Harleen had gotten awfully sarcastic lately, Harleen thought.  She chatted with Joan for a few more minutes and was relieved when the other doctor left her office.

She really didn’t know what she was going to do about Ben.  It would be wise not to change a thing, but as closely as J watched her, he’d know she hadn’t and would he get upset and do or say something? And then there was the fact that she didn’t _want_ anyone else touching her ever again.  Harleen shivered again, and forced herself to turn back to her work. She had other patients to see and she was just going to have to pull it together until 2 p.m. when she could see _him_ again.

 

* * *

 

 

Harleen was already sitting at the table when they brought him in.  Her hair was down; she’d needed to cover up the damage from last night, and she hadn’t been able to resist touching up her makeup.  She wanted to look beautiful for him no matter how inappropriate that might be.  Appropriate behavior had already gone out the window less than 24 hours ago and looking like a librarian wasn’t going to fix it. 

They brought him in and he didn’t say a word as they strapped him down in the chair.  She saw that they had finally given him a cast on his broken arm.   The orderlies left and she looked up to see that his face was completely blank.  He wasn’t even going to give her a hint what he was thinking.  _Bastard._

“How’s your arm?” she asked.   “I’m sorry that happened.”

“I’ve had worse,” he answered, unfazed.  “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Harleen raised her eyebrows.  “Where else would I be?  I do work here.”

“Figured you’d call in sick for sure, maybe bolt…get a ticket to somewhere far, far away.” He waved with his good arm and started chuckling.

“You don’t know me.”  She was bristling, a little annoyed as usual that he had read her so accurately.  “I don’t have a history of running away when things get complicated.”

“Except from home.”

“Cheap shot,” she shot back, and thought he actually looked a tiny bit remorseful.  _He knew about Kevin,_ she thought. _There isn’t anything about me he doesn’t know, and he uses it all._  

“That was mean, wasn’t it?” he admitted, smiling.  “But I’m not a nice guy, Doctor. Don’t ever forget that.”

Harleen tilted her head, considering. “I don’t think I can call myself a nice girl anymore.  So let’s just move on.”

“I can’t _wait_ to hear what we’re going to talk about today.”  He grinned and leaned back in his chair and she had to fight the urge to stare at his crotch.  _No, absolutely not_.  She had a plan today and she was not going to get distracted.

“We’ve touched on this before, but I want to go deeper into it.”  She caught his smirk and immediately regretted her word choice, but continued.  “Good and evil do not exist as separate entities staring at each other from across the room. Most people are somewhere in the middle of the range…they do some good things, they do some bad things.  Studies show that most people lie, and have stolen.  They cheat in school, they cheat on their taxes, they cheat on their partners-“  Of course, she caught him staring pointedly at her ring.  _Of course_.  “As you yourself previously observed, it’s not hard for most people to come up with a justification for their actions.”

“As you yourself know, Doctor.” He smiled but she didn’t even flinch, and continued.

“Most of the major business and political leaders in America are not what you would call “good guys.”  They’ve gotten to the top by scheming and forming alliances and using power as a weapon and people as pawns. Not all stop short of murder, either, but they don’t kill people on a live feed on the ten-o-clock news.”

“What can I say?  I enjoy having an audience.  I think…you would too.”  Harleen felt herself blushing and wasn’t sure who she was more annoyed at, him or herself.  _You’re the actual problem here,_ she reminded herself.  _He’s playing himself as expected, you’re the one who’s off script by a mile._

“Ultimately it limits you.  You’re brilliant and your crimes have shown your ability to strategize.  You weren’t wrong when you said you get whatever you want,” she admitted.  “You could do better than-“ she gestured – “this.  Better than just Gotham.”

“So why don’t I join them?  Be some master of the universe in a boring suit?  Have all the wealth and the power without the bullet wounds and the vacations to this delightful place?  Is that what you want to know?”  He was having a tough time concentrating himself.  Her hair was down, and she’d left the glasses in her office. She had done a good job concealing the bite on her lip, but he could see the faint split in it, and way it pushed out slightly from the swelling inside her mouth.  It didn’t take much imagination for him to visualize her naked and spread out in front of him.  Why was he still thinking about her?  He’d had her.  The game was over and he had won.  Just as he’d planned.  Why did he still want more?   Why was he even here? He should have left last night. The frustration rose up in him and he started to get angry.  

“I do,” she replied and then thought, _great choice of words yet again, Harleen._

“Because _you_ want me to,” he hissed at her, switching from pleasant to angry so quickly that she sat back in her chair.  “I do what _I_ want. I do what amuses me and that doesn’t sound amusing at all.  I’m not here to make you or the rest of society accept me.”  He lowered his voice further.  “You’d still fuck me if I was killing six guards a day in here,” he observed derisively.

“That’s not true,” she answered, trying not to think about the fact she was probably lying.

He laughed scornfully.  “None of it bothers you, and you just haven’t accepted that yet. Part of you has already started to think about how I could be useful to you.  I bet you have a little list in your head of people you’d just as soon be rid of and it’s getting longer every day.”

“Everyone has a list like that,” she told him. “They don’t act upon it because they’re afraid of the consequences.  I’m only suggesting you consider a change in tactics, for your own benefit.”

“My benefit?  That’s a good one.”  He leaned forward, and she visibly shivered, whether from fear or excitement, she couldn’t tell.  “The thing you don’t realize is that I could never be what you want, but _you_ could very easily be what I want.  Except you don’t have the guts.  I think _you’ve_ been worrying all night and all day over a tape I’ve already had destroyed.”

Harleen couldn’t hide the look of relief on her face. The Joker looked at her with a combination of disgust and disappointment.

“Go home to your fiancée and watch some golf, Doctor.  I’m done.”

She was eager for the excuse to leave the room and wasted no time doing so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker leaves Arkham and Harleen gets the Christmas present she's always wanted.

The Joker was pacing in his cell, trying to decide what to do next.

 _It wasn’t going to work,_ he thought. He was going to have to accept that.  She had been a fun challenge, and he couldn’t complain about the outcome. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and it had been even better than he’d imagined.  She was his to do with as he wished – even she didn’t seem to be arguing that point.  But he was still disappointed.

 _I own her body,_ he thought, _but her mind is still theirs.  She still wants to please them.  Unacceptable._

It was true. She wanted – needed – the acceptance of the mundane world and he was sure her mind was aflutter trying to think of how to have both. 

 _She’s not strong enough, walk away._ He could get a message to Jonny and be out of here in time to eat a real steak dinner tonight. It had been a fun game but it was over.  It was time to go back.  There was only so much he could do from the inside.  You never knew enough, no matter how good your sources.  Power was easy to lose…henchmen got better offers, managers were bribed to ruin your businesses or siphon off funds.  Ultimately, you needed to be there yourself, reminding everyone who was King and making a public display of what happened to those who forgot that very important fact.  The Joker already had a list of people who were going to die in the first 24 hours after he was out. Their deaths would be very public and very graphic. 

Surely that was enough to keep him entertained?

_If you want her so badly, you know where she lives.  Show up and fuck the daylights out of her. She’s not going to say no.  Even if she’s married to that pussy._

Something seized at his insides and confused him.  Why did it bother him, the thought of her married to someone else? She was just a piece of ass.  A particularly nice, tight ass, to be sure, but there were women just as beautiful in his club any day of the week.  _Can’t talk to them, though,_ he thought. He genuinely liked talking to Harleen about his day, and playing with her mind.  She was a worthy adversary.  He had never met anybody like her.  He imagined her waiting for him when he came in the door of his penthouse…

The Joker turned swiftly and punched the wall so hard that blood flew from his knuckles.   It brought him back to reality.

 _What the fuck is she doing to your head?  You do not_ need _people._

He flopped onto his cot and started laughing at the irony of it all.  _She’s worried you’re going to destroy her, and you’re worried she’s going to destroy you._ It was time to get out of here. He could taste that steak already.  The Joker pulled his cell phone from inside the cot’s mattress and sent Jonny a text.

_Time to fly._

 

* * *

Sometime between 2:00 and 4:00 the next morning, the Joker simply ceased to exist at Arkham Asylum.  No one saw a thing. The security cameras showed nothing but empty hallways.  His bed was made, but empty. There was no sign of a struggle.  The chaos was to come later. 

 

* * *

 

The insistent ringing of her cell phone woke Harleen at 4:30. She had only just gotten to sleep an hour earlier, tossing and turning and thinking about J, and she was alone again after lying to Ben that she had a horrible cold she didn’t want to pass along to him.   She coughed and cleared her throat.  “Hello?”

                It was Dr. Arkham.  “Harleen, I need you to get into the office as quickly as possible.  We can’t find the Joker.”

                “Wh-what?  What do you mean, you can’t find him?”

                “His cell is empty and we’ve been searching every inch of this place. Get in here!”

                “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

                She tossed on sweats and put her hair in a ponytail, doubting that looking professional was a priority right now.  As she sped down the expressway, she wondered where he was.  She wasn’t the least bit surprised he could get out; it seemed he knew more about Arkham and how its systems worked than the man it was named after. But where was he, and what was he going to do next? 

                It was still dark outside when she arrived, but Arkham was lit up like a county fair.  She started counting the SWAT team vans…she didn’t even know Gotham had that many.  There were police cars everywhere and police outfitted in Kevlar vests and helmets and masks.  _Very well protected,_ she thought. J would just be in his prison clothes, unless he’d had something else smuggled in to him.  She imagined him being shot, dead, gone forever, imagined they might never speak again, and her eyes filled up with tears. 

                She had to get it together.  She wiped her eyes and headed inside, pushing past the reporters who had gotten the news and were already there to get the scoop.

                “That’s his doctor!” one yelled.  “Dr. Quinzel, did you have any idea the Joker was plotting an escape?”

                Another voice came in, “Did he talk to you about who he wants to kill next?”

                And another “How can someone escape from this place?  Do you think he had help on the inside?”

                Harleen ignored them all, certain that she had no authority to speak on behalf of the institution.  It was a relief when the guard buzzed her in and the heavy doors clanged shut behind her.  She ducked into her office and slipped on her lab coat so she’d look a bit more professional if the media got another glimpse of her, then headed to Dr. Arkham’s office.  He and Dr. Leland were inside and looked relieved to see her.

                “Harleen, we’re glad you’re here,” Joan said. “I don’t think you should go home until he’s recaptured.  It’s not safe.”

                She was aware she was looking at Joan like the woman had grown a second head.  “He would never – He has never shown any indication in our sessions of wanting to be violent toward me.”

                “He has also been restrained in some way in most of them, with two guards just outside the door,” Dr. Arkham reminded her.  “You don’t have that at home and I’m in agreement with Joan. Either sleep in your office or we’ll get you a hotel room and a bodyguard.  Now, what can you tell us about your recent sessions?  Did he give you any indication of his plans?”

                She could honestly say that he had not.  “No.  Our most recent session focused on the nature of good and evil. I was discussing the possibility with him that he could apply his intelligence and planning skills in a nonviolent way and still have all the material rewards he craves.  But he has a craving for violence that is hard to overcome.”  _Not just violence, but I’m not discussing that with them._

                “You are literally the only doctor he hasn’t tried to attack,” Joan noted.  “I’m hoping to get some ideas of how you handled him that we can pass along to the police.”

 _I don’t think my tactics would work for them,_ she thought.  But there were things she could share.  It would be better for everybody involved if no one made the Joker angry. 

“I never treated him like a violent offender, but I also didn’t sugar coat things.  We had intelligent conversations.  I challenged him as much as I could in the hopes he’d start to think about his options for more socially acceptable behavior on his own.”  She paused, remembering how she’d enjoyed their back-and-forth, even when it rattled her, which it often did.  “He’s truly a genius, you know.  He just doesn’t see a reason to play by the rules. It amuses him to do otherwise, and he’s not afraid of any consequences.  Pain doesn’t bother him and I don’t believe he fears death.”

                “Do you think there’s any point of vulnerability?  Anything or anyone he cares about?”  Dr. Arkham asked.

                “No,” she answered quickly, although she wished it wasn’t the case.  “I think he’s a textbook sociopath with narcissistic tendencies.”   _And what do you think you are?_ Logical Harleen scoffed.  She felt her hands start to shake and hid them in the pockets of her lab coat, remembering too late that her shredded panties from the other night were in the pocket.

                Except that they weren’t, but a piece of folded paper was.  Harleen started fake coughing so that she could excuse herself to get a drink of water. She went straight to the ladies room and hid in a stall to unfold the note.

_Merry Christmas.  Watch the news for your present._

_Goodbye,_

_-J_

Harleen let out the breath she’d been holding in a gasp.  _Oh my God, what did he do?_ She pulled out her cell phone and watched in frustration as the KGTH web page slowly considered loading.  The story finally came up and she hit the video button.

                “We reported to you just two hours ago that the infamous Joker had escaped Arkham Asylum, and now it seems as though he has already claimed his first victim.  The dismembered remains of Kevin Lowery, age 54, were found in an alley adjacent to 7th street.  It was a vicious killing, with the Joker’s trademark mutilation, a wide smile cut into the man’s face.  Parts of his body were found scattered along three city blocks. A motive for the crime has not been established.  The Joker remains at large-”

                She shut off the sound and exited the stall but her reflection in the mirror brought her up short. 

                Harleen looked at herself and she was smiling. Grinning from ear to ear, not a normal smile, a warped smile, _his_ smile.  Her eyes were lit up with something that was not quite sanity as she imagined Kevin’s fear and pain.  _I bet he cut your dick off, you sick motherfucker and I’m so sorry I missed the show,_ she thought.  She would have helped. She would have taken the knife from him and helped.  Watched Kevin scream and beg and cry.  _How’s it feel, you bastard?  How’s it feel to be the victim?_

                Part of her was stunned at what was going through her head, and part of her knew it had been there all along.  She had wanted Kevin dead from the first time he touched her. She had spent many nights thinking about how to accomplish it, but Logical Harleen always won the argument and finally convinced her to just run away.  But that hadn’t ended it, had it?  Her anger and resentment had never been quelled…not until now.

                _Closure,_ she thought, _there’s a nice healthy way of looking at it._ She giggled and didn’t care how sick that was. 

                She wanted to find J and thank him.  She knew exactly _how_ she wanted to thank him.  The thought of not seeing him again was unbearable.  No one had ever done anything like this for her…Ben said he loved her, but he knew about Kevin and what had he done?  Nothing.  Like her mother and everyone else in the mundane world who had failed to protect her.

                Well, she would protect him right back…any way she could figure out how.  Maybe she could alter some session reports, give them some false leads… _You’re a smart girl,_ she heard J saying.  _You’ll figure it out._  Oh, she would.   She would make him proud. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker's unusual behavior makes Jonny Frost nervous. Meanwhile, Harleen justifies yet another major life decision to herself.

Jonny Frost was driving the boss home in his own car, a much less conspicuous vehicle than the Boss usually preferred, but Jonny had decided he didn’t want to deal with the Bat tonight and the boss hadn’t argued with him.   He didn’t understand at all what had just taken place.  They had a list, they had a plan of the people that needed be disposed of for good, logical business reasons and instead the Joker insisted upon going to some crappy apartment in Brooklyn, luring this poor sap to the door and then shredding him all over three city blocks with a viciousness Jonny had rarely seen his boss display.  And he _still_ didn’t know who the dude was.  But he was too smart to ask, so he just drove, occasionally glancing in the mirror at his boss, who was utterly absorbed in whatever was happening on his smart phone. He heard a woman giggling and watched the Joker’s face light up.

                “She liked her present, Jonny boy!  I wasn’t thinking, should have had you take video of me cutting his dick off.  She would have _loved_ that.”

                Now Jonny was well and truly baffled.  His boss was not in the business of doing anything for other people, especially women. Women were useful to him as lures, dancers that brought in money, drug mules, and a place to stick his cock – but never the same one twice.  The Joker didn’t buy presents or worry about what some piece of tail would love.   What had they _done_ to him in Arkham and who was she?  Suddenly he remembered an errand from a few weeks earlier – the diamond bracelet in the flower delivery to Dr. Harleen Quinzel.  He had thought nothing of it at the time; he fulfilled most of his boss’s orders without thinking about them too hard and stealing a bracelet and popping some unfortunate deliveryman over the head were all in a day’s work for Jonny.  But maybe the two were connected.

                He knew a lot better than to ask, though. He knew the Joker well, probably better than anyone, and the fact that his boss was in the backseat smiling at some video on the phone was making him nervous.  God only knew what was going to happen next.

                The Joker, on his part, was positively delighted. This had been the best night in a very long time.  He’d walked right out the door of Arkham, thanks to some fun with the security system and guards who had no problem becoming temporarily blind for a price.  He’d gotten the idea to take out Harleen’s stepfather as his first strike.  First, he knew it would be funny – guys like Kevin always turned into a blubbering mess when they had to fight a man instead of a defenseless woman or child – and Kevin did not disappoint. The fat fuck had actually peed himself. It was fabulous and it made the Joker’s night.  Second, it was a good message to his enemies of what happened when somebody made him mad.  Finally, it was one last test for Doctor Quinzel.  She still believed she was one of them – flawed, but one of them.  She was wrong.  The sound of her giggling on the surveillance feed was music to his ears.  She thought it was funny as hell that he’d sliced and diced Kevin.  She _loved_ it.  Not the slightest remorse, not the slightest bit of revulsion.  Maybe he had been too quick to give up on her, he thought, wishing she were here with him to celebrate. 

                They pulled into the underground garage under his club and Jonny opened the door for him.  “We’ll go back out at nine tonight.  I want five guys with us.  Map out the 12 names on our list in a circle.  At least two girls to use as bait – 10’s not 8’s. No shortage of ammunition but sharpen my knives as well.”  The Joker laughed.  “I’m out of practice but tonight was _so_ much fun and I might want to repeat the experience.  Particularly on old Sal.”  The Joker had learned his long-time manager at the Bahama Club was taking cash under the table to let the Penguin hold meetings there.  He’d even let him use the Joker’s private apartment.  Cocky old son of a bitch, the Joker thought.  _Judgment Day is here, and I will show you who is your God.   Open your eyes to the truth.  Or,_ he giggled to himself, _remove them altogether._ Oh, it was going to be a fun evening!  He headed up to his room, stripped off his bloody clothes and fell into a deep sleep, back in his own comfortable bed at last. 

 

* * *

 

                It was Sunday morning and Harleen had refused to stay confined at Arkham. She was on her way home to shower and go to brunch with Ben.   Part of her longed to see her mother after all of these years – the coast was clear, now.  But what did she have to say to her?  _Hi Mom, great to see you now that I don’t have to worry about the child molester you married?  No thanks to him, I turned out sort of all right!_

                No.  Better to let her continue with her illusion and be a sad widow who had lost a wonderful man. The truth served no purpose and Harleen wasn’t sure she could ever truly forgive her mother.  There had been things Diana should have seen. She didn’t want to see.  She wanted to stay with Kevin no matter what he did.

                _Well, that’s where it comes from then,_ Logical Harleen suddenly piped up.  _You’re mommy’s little girl, all right._ That thought made her shudder.  No, it wasn’t the same.  J hadn’t done anything to hurt someone she loved.

                _He would though. Without a second thought._

She told herself that was why she was about to do this.  It was better for everybody involved, and now she had the perfect excuse.

 

* * *

 

               

                Ben was trying to be understanding, but in typical male fashion, had to argue with her feelings.

                “Harleen…I don’t think that isolating yourself is the answer.  I know this is all a shock but you need to be with the people who love you, and being alone isn’t safe.”

                She sighed.  “I know myself, Ben.  I’m sorry.  I truly need some space to process everything that has happened.  I never really worked through what happened with Kevin and…” She considered how much truth to interject into this conversation.  “I have had some really disturbing feelings about his death.  I’m going to start treatment to deal with them.”

                “But that’s normal!  Of course you would.  It’s not a reason to break off our engagement.”

                _This_ , Harleen thought, _is why women simply block your e-mail and change their number. Men could never exit gracefully. They always pulled out every argument in the book to make you stay, with all the fervor of a used car salesman trying to close a deal before the end of the month._

                “Listen to me. I am not in any condition, psychologically, to have a healthy relationship with another human being.  I think I’m the expert on this, not you.” 

                “You can’t just live alone. It’s not safe. The Joker is on the loose, killing people.  A dozen more after Kevin.  How do you know you’re not next?”  Ben looked panicked.

                She shook her head.  “I’m not.  Besides, I spend most of my day at Arkham – he’s not likely to show up at the place he just escaped from.  We had two psychiatrists quit after he escaped and killed all those people, so I have to double up right now.  I will be behind barbed wire with dozens of guards most of the time.  I’ll be fine.”  Harleen slipped off her engagement ring and put it back in Ben’s hand. 

                “I am sorry but I have to do this,” she explained.  _I’ve been gone for weeks,_ she thought, _you just didn’t see it._ She got up and walked away, relieved that he didn’t try to follow her.  Ben was a good enough guy and he would find someone new, someone with less baggage, someone who loved him.  She told herself this would keep him safe, but she knew deep in her heart that she was clearing out her life to make room for her new one, even though she hadn’t heard a thing from J. 

                _He’ll be back,_ she thought.  _He was as much into me as I was to him._ Logical Harleen was not pleased that she took the degree of viciousness with which he had killed Kevin as proof he had actual feelings for her, but she wasn’t particularly interested in listening to Logical Harleen at the moment.  She felt fantastic, more free that she had in many years, maybe ever.  She hadn’t realized how long she had let the shadow of Kevin’s continued existence plague her; it had been like a pain that you just get used to and pretty much ignore.  Kevin was gone forever, the score finally settled in a way no legal entity could have ever accomplished.  Ben was gone and she didn’t have to pretend anymore.  Now she got to find out who she was without all the pretending, and she couldn’t decide if she was excited or terrified but at least she felt alive again. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harleen gets an interesting new patient who knows exactly who she is, while the Joker gets even more annoyed with everybody who isn't Harleen.

The Joker was looking at his phone and giggling under his breath again.  Honestly, the whole thing was starting to creep Jonny out.  The boss was glued to his phone like a 14 year old who had just discovered Snapchat.  Jonny knew he was watching some kind of surveillance feed with multiple screens. He had caught a glimpse, and he heard the boss clicking through them obsessively.  But he had no idea what he was watching except that he was pretty sure it was a woman.  One that had not, apparently, bored the Boss enough to turn it off in three solid weeks since he left Arkham.

                Oh, business went on as usual.  The Boss was in a great mood after his killing spree and the underworld of Gotham got the message loud and clear. If you were still alive, you bowed down to the Joker and did nothing behind his back.  Things were good that way.  Jonny had even gotten a nice bonus for his loyalty – that had never happened before.  It was a little off-putting how _happy_ the Boss seemed, Jonny thought.  Like happy but sort of manic and like it could change into something scary at any time. 

                Harleen, on her part, felt like she was in a holding pattern. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard from him since the night he left.  _Maybe he already had a woman on the outside.  Just because you don’t know about something doesn’t mean it does not exist,_ she reminded herself.   She focused on her work, but found herself asking her criminal patients different questions than she used to.  She realized she was subconsciously educating herself about how crimes were committed; strategies that worked, strategies that didn’t.  Sometimes she thought she might be inadvertently counseling them on how to be better criminals when they finally got out.  But either way, it was highly effective at getting them to open up and share with her, and those were the results Dr. Arkham liked to see.  As far as anyone could see, Dr. Quinzel was doing great work and seemed completely unaffected by the fact that her most dangerous patient was on the loose. 

                _They all think I should be scared he might come find me,_ she thought, _but I’m more scared he won’t._ She had forced herself to consider the very real possibility that she might not see him again, and it was unbearable.  His note had said goodbye. She thought about him constantly and knew she was over-analyzing everything he had ever said and done, trying to find some proof that he cared or missed her.  But the days went by and she heard nothing from him.  She searched her office and her possessions, hoping to find a note, and never left her apartment without scanning the floor, but there was nothing.  Radio silence…three weeks going on four.  Soon it would be a month.  _God, how she missed him._  She missed their sessions.  She missed his smile.  She was pretty sure she’d kill someone to be able to touch him again. 

                There was a knock on her office door and Dr. Arkham walked in.  “Good morning, Harleen.  We’ve got a new patient coming in that I think you will enjoy working with.”

                Harleen perked up.  “Fill me in! You know I love a challenge.”

                Arkham sat down and slid a folder across the desk at her.  “Selina Kyle, aka the Catwoman.  Very interesting lady.  Primarily a thief.  What we’re most interested in with her is that she has formed alliances with other major figures in the Gotham underworld, and she should be a rich source of information if you can get her to talk.  She’s been seen associating with everyone from the Penguin to the Joker.”  Arkham smiled in satisfaction at the effect his words had on Dr. Quinzel.  He knew Quinzel was far from done trying to figure out the Joker, and her drive to do so would make her do one hell of a job on this Catwoman character. 

                “I’ll get her to talk, Dr. Arkham,” Harleen said. “You can count on me.”

                “I know I can, you’ve been doing great work.  Make sure you know that file inside and out. You see her at three.”  Arkham got up and left her office, leaving Harleen smiling at the new file on her desk.  The electricity globe on the corner of her desk caught her eye and she reached out one finger to touch it, watching the tiny lightning bolts snap to the touch.  Maybe her wait was coming to an end. 

 

* * *

 

                Selina Kyle was one of the most beautiful women Harleen had ever seen.  She was dark haired and exotic with almond shaped eyes and the same sort of gymnast’s figure Harleen possessed.  She made the Arkham uniform look like a quirky trend from a famous designer.  _She has the same elegance J does,_ Harleen thought.   _Why are all the most interesting people I meet career criminals?_

                “Good afternoon, Ms. Kyle.  I am Dr. Quinzel.”

                “I know who you are.”   Selina watched the doctor’s mouth quiver at her response.  She looked like a high schooler dying to ask a million questions about her crush.  Oh, this was going to be _useful_. This was going to be the most useful trip to this dungeon Selina had ever suffered through.

                Harleen swallowed visibly.  She just couldn’t ask any of the things that came to mind, so she’d go straight for the weirdest thing in the file and see what happened from there. Unlike the Joker, Kyle didn’t have a history of attacking her doctors, only her guards, so Harleen could question more freely without her usual caution.  She smiled in a friendly way.  “You have some interesting history.  You’ve helped Batman and been on the right side of the law, but you always return to a life of crime. How would you explain that?”

                “My life _is_ crime,” Selina purred.  “Batman wants to change me, to sprinkle goodness and fairy dust and butterflies all over who I actually am.  It never works for long.” 

                “Why do you think it works at all?”  Harleen inquired, pen poised above her notes.

                “Because I want to fuck him so sometimes I play along with his games.”

                Harleen lost it; she literally snorted with laughter.  “I can honestly say that this is the most enlightening first five minutes of a session that I have ever experienced.”

                “Oh, I’ll tell you all about it if you want, Doctor. I’m _not_ a shy girl.”  They both laughed.  Harleen was thinking about how much she could learn about Batman’s weaknesses through this patient and how valuable that could make her to Mr. J.  Selina was thinking about how she could get this girl to manipulate the Joker to do her bidding and how rich that could make her.

                “Well, let’s go back and start with when you became the Catwoman…”

 

* * *

 

                It was another fun night at the Grin and Bare It – or it should have been.

                The Joker sat in his usual booth, listening to yet another member of the employee of the month club drone on about what he had accomplished while the Joker had been away.  To be fair, he had done his job well and not turned – but now he thought he was due for a raise and he had come in here to ask for one.

                Jonny watched the conversation from the corner of the VIP room.  _That dude fell off the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down._ He had already done his part of the job and now there was nothing to do but watch things play out. 

                “Are you done?” The Joker suddenly asked.

                “Uh – yeah, just, you know, if there’s anything more I can do for you to make it worth it.”  The guy was nervous but not fully aware of the depth of the hole he had stepped in.

                 The Joker snapped his fingers.  “Jonny, why don’t you come over here and show _Mister Pitzer_ what we can give him in exchange for a job _so_ very well done?”

                Jonny walked over and stuck his phone in front of Pitzer.  There was a young girl on surveillance video – his 12 year old daughter - bound and gagged, alone in a room.  Pitzer looked up at Jonny in horror.

                “Who are you looking at?  WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT?”  The Joker was utterly livid.  _How dare he?  Who does he think is in charge here?_ In one swift motion, he whipped out his knife and was on top of Pitzer, holding the blade to his throat as the terrified man sank back into the couch, trying desperately to avoid being cut.

                “Oh, do I have your attention _now_?”  The Joker cackled.  “That’s good.  That’s very good.”

                Pitzer was violently shaking all over and afraid to open his mouth, which was a big improvement from five minutes ago.  “Relax, sweetheart.  I’m not going to kill you.  Yet.”  He pushed the blade into Pitzer’s neck and watched the blood seep down in little rivers.  “ _You_ have a job to do this evening, isn’t that right?”

                “Y-yes.  Yes Sir.”

                “Sir!  Much better.   You’re going to go do _your job_ and if you do it _right_ and you do it _well,_ I _might_ be persuaded to put her back where I found her…in the condition I found her.”  The Joker was so close that he could have kissed Pitzer; all the terrified man could see was the maniacal look in his eyes.  “You’re not going to fuck things up and not do as I ask, are you?”

                “N-n-no S-sir.”

                The Joker jumped up and sheathed his blade.  “Move it or lose it,” he said to Pitzer, who promptly complied by bolting from the room. “Jonny, don’t pay him for the next three months.  One wrong move, he dies and so does his family.”

                “Yes, Boss.”

                “What, _what_ , what gives them the idea that they can _negotiate?_ Do I look like their fucking _union rep_?  Does this look like a _fucking democracy_?”

                Jonny chuckled.  “Nope, Boss.  Looks like a kingdom to me.”        

                _And that’s why Jonny was alive and well,_ the Joker thought.  He picked up his drink and took a long gulp.  Dealing with these idiots was exhausting. He wished he had someone to delegate it to, someone smart enough to get it right. 

                _Harleen could handle it,_ he thought.  _A little training and she’d be great.  All I’m really doing is practicing psychology on them.  A little aversion therapy, fuck up and bad things will happen to you so you’d better avoid fucking up._ The Joker snickered and stood up.

                “Go follow our friend and make sure he does as he’s told.  You can return the kid to her house if he does.  I’ll drive myself home.”

                Jonny nodded, grabbed his coat and left.  The Joker twirled his keys around a finger and considered his options.  He realized with some annoyance that he wanted to tell Harleen about his evening. Wanted to tell her how clever he was, wanted to describe the look on Pitzer’s face. Well, maybe he’d just drive by her apartment.  Maybe just look at her, refresh his memory of what she looked like in the flesh, not on the intercepted surveillance video from Arkham.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harleen has a girl's night out with the only friend she has who won't judge her, not realizing the object of her obsession is waiting for her at home. Lots of BDSM references, so skip it if it makes you uncomfortable, there's nothing in here you need to go on to the next chapter.

“Oh my God! People actually _do_ that?”  Harleen collapsed in a fit of giggles, her friend Lexi joining in. 

                “Not only do they do it, they pay me to watch them do it!” Lexi announced triumphantly.  She was definitely the most unique of Harleen’s friends.  A tall, curvy redhead with endless energy, Lexi had always lived life to the fullest and encouraged her friends to do the same.  Harleen met her at Gotham University when they were both freshmen and both psychology majors.  But while Harleen had dutifully plugged away through her four year degree and medical school, Lexi had made some interesting connections in her junior year and decided to apply her talent for analyzing human behavior in a very different way. Six years later, she was running the most exclusive BDSM club in Gotham, one rumored to be frequented by A list celebrities and high level politicians. Of course, Lexi would never name a client, so Harleen didn’t know for sure.  Harleen was one of her only friends outside the lifestyle who knew, and they got together at least once a month for drinks. 

                Harleen had been dying to talk to _someone_ about what had happened with the Joker, and she knew that Lexi was not only her least judgmental friend, but also someone who had heard it all and could keep secrets. 

                “So what the hell happened with you, girl, you finally kicked Boring Ben to the curb?  Honestly I was so relieved.”  Lexi had never been one to hold back, Harleen reminded herself. 

                “Yeah, I just, well, he was great in a lot of ways and I probably shouldn’t have but-“  Her thoughts stole back to the reason she had ended things with Ben and she couldn’t wipe the smirk off her face or hide the gleam in her eyes as she remembered.  Lexi’s jaw dropped.

                “There’s someone else.  You – You broke up with Ben because you were fucking someone else.  Bad girl!”  Lexi was positively gleeful.  She’d always felt that something else lurked underneath Harleen’s straitlaced surface, and she was dying to see it come out.

                Harleen laughed.  “You’re right, and I didn’t even feel bad.  I’m _terrible._ ”

                Lexi shrugged, “Yeah, we’re all terrible when we behave the way men have been behaving for millions of years.  So fill me in, who is he?”

                “I might need another drink for that!”  Harleen slurped some more of the current one and started giggling. 

                “Oh my God. What did you DO?”  Lexi was dying.  “Wait, _is_ it a guy?”

                Harleen spit her drink.  “YES, it’s a guy. I haven’t suddenly switched teams!”

                “Well I don’t know what you’ve done, this is like the first unplanned thing you’ve done in the ten years since I met you,” Lexi pointed out. 

                “Oh that’s so sad…and you’re right. But even you are going to be shocked.”

                Lexi raised her perfect eyebrows, “Uh, you know what I do for a living and I’m going to be shocked?  Now you’re scaring me.”

                Harleen swallowed the last of her drink and tried to keep a straight face, but between the topic and the alcohol, it was proving impossible.  “Okay.  You remember I told you I was treating the Joker?”

                “Yeah, sure.”

                Harleen just smiled.  Lexi was confused for a moment and then her mouth dropped open.

                “Aaaaaaah!  You did not.  You did _not_.”

                Harleen smiled and bit her lower lip, remembering. 

                “Goddamn it, bitch, you cost me my best tipper.  That’s why I haven’t seen him since he escaped from Arkham!”  She waved at the bartender and pointed at Harleen.   “My friend is buying for the rest of the evening.”

                Now it was Harleen’s turn to be shocked.  “He – what – Have _you_?”   Jealousy swept over her in a wave and her face grew hot. 

                “No.  No, no, of course not. I’m a dominatrix, he’s totally _not_ into that. He likes subs,” Lexi reassured her with a dismissive wave of her hand.  Then she laughed, “I guess now I know which side you fall on, don’t I?”  They both laughed.

                “You know, I never even thought about it before. I never thought I was that way at all.”  She lowered her voice as the bartender came by and set down two more drinks. 

                “Well,” Lexi confided, “I have enough insider information to understand the appeal.  When God handed out dick, he got in line three times. Bet _that_ was a big change from Ben!”

                Harleen choked on her drink and coughed a few times before she got her voice back.  “Seriously though, I get it now. I could never understand people paying for sex or paying to go to a place like yours or, you know, really caring _that much_ about it.  I thought it was _nice_.  Now it’s like some kind of drug, I can’t stop thinking about it.  If he walked in here right now I’d fuck him on the bar.  I miss him so much I can’t stand it and I don’t know if it’s love or lust or mental illness.  And I'm supposed to know the difference!”

                “Well, where is he?” Lexi asked.

                “He escaped a day after it happened.  He killed my evil stepfather on his way home, that was a nice touch.  But now it’s been a month and I haven’t heard a thing.   Does he – does he have a girlfriend?”

                Lexi shook her head.  “Absolutely not.  He’s never had a girlfriend.  He doesn’t do relationships.” She stopped short when she saw how sad Harleen looked.  “But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be the exception to the rule. He’s never killed for a woman before, either.  He _has_ to care about you if he did that!”

                Harleen sighed.  “I absolutely love you, because you’re my only friend who could say that and not be shocked.  Thanks for listening to me.  I’m sort of a mess and I haven’t had anyone to talk to.”

                Lexi leaned over and hugged her.  “Anytime, sunshine.  Now, do you want some advice?”

                Harleen pulled back, “Yes!  Clearly I need some advice. Please help me!”

                “All right.  As your friend, I’ll start with a disclaimer that you know you’re playing with more fire than my clients who are into candle wax, right?”

                Harleen nodded.  “Yeah, I probably have more information about what he’s capable of than anyone else.”

                “I see it’s not going to stop you, so you might as well get what you want."  Lexi paused for effect.  "The Joker is extremely competitive. You can’t be the prize in a competition that doesn’t exist, _capische_?”

                Harleen smiled, shaking her head slowly.  “How the hell did I miss that? I’m the one who finished psych school.”

                “Yeah but you’re dickmatized and it makes the best of us stupid,” Lexi observed, laughing.  “Now, enough about you. I’ve _got_ to tell you what I was doing last night. For purposes of our story, we’ll just call him Bob…”

__________________

                The Joker looked at his Rolex and growled. Midnight and Dr. Quinzel was still not home. _Where was she?_   He had stopped having her tailed 24/7 because she never went anywhere more exciting than the grocery store, and he needed Jonny elsewhere, but now he regretted it.  Irritated and cold, he started the Lamborghini and headed back toward home.  This was ridiculous. He was the King of Gotham and he could have any woman he wanted.  Why was he so fixated on her?  It had never happened to him before and he didn’t understand.  Part of him wanted to kill her, to snap her neck and erase her from the world along with the control she had over him.  It wasn’t even the physical desire he had for her, although that was an element. It was this grating, annoying need to _talk_ to her, to tell another human being about his day.  _You go to Arkham for a couple months and you come out Tony fucking Soprano who needs to go cry to his therapist about who he killed today._

                He didn’t have time for this.  He needed her.  No.  He needed to get her and get bored with her and move on with his life. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina messes with Harleen's mind and gives Harleen an idea about how to mess with Mr. J's. Mr. J is not amused.

                Selina Kyle was enjoying her sessions with the very interesting Dr. Quinzel. Most of the shrinks they’d paired her with were beyond boring.  You could see right away why they’d gotten so educated – it was obvious they’d never had a better offer.  But Dr. Quinzel was different. She sat there in her white coat and her glasses looking the part, but there was something in her eyes that Selina found intriguing.

                _What’s a bad girl like you doing in a nice place like this?_ Selina wondered. 

                 “Sometimes I don’t know what to talk about with you,” Harleen admitted. “You’re the sanest patient I’ve ever treated, if I don’t buy into the idea that criminal behavior equals insanity, which I don’t.”

                “I know,” Selina acknowledged.  “I’m really only here because they can’t keep me anywhere else.  My career has taught me to get in, and get out of, places much more secure than Gotham’s prisons.”

                “I mean, I could diagnose you as an adrenaline junkie…”   They both laughed.

                “My dear, you’re as guilty of that as I am from what I’ve heard.”

                Harleen stopped laughing and looked hard at the other woman. What did she know?  _Goddamn it, J, what did you tell her?_ Selina just smiled.  It had been a lucky guess on her part, but clearly she had hit a nerve and now she’d have to find out just what.  She bet she could make another lucky guess that it had to do with the Joker.

                “But I guess that’s why we all feel like we can talk to you.  The Joker seems to have benefited _immensely_ from his sessions with you.” 

                Harleen flushed, much to Selina’s delight. Exactly what had gone on between the psychiatrist and the mad clown?  Far more than she’d originally suspected.  She thought they just had a weird obsession with each other but this looked like a lot more.

                “What did he tell you?”   Harleen decided it was best to just bite the bullet and find out what she was going to have to deal with.

                “It wasn’t anything he said,” Selina answered quickly.  “But he came home in _such_ a good mood.  Smiling all the time like he’d heard the world’s best joke.  He used to be a lot moodier.  Whatever did you do to him?” 

                “He came home and killed 13 people in the first day,” Harleen reminded her.  “Whatever I said or did, it did nothing to cure him.”  

                “Oh, I think you cured his depression,” Selina explained.  “I don’t think anyone can cure him of killing. He needs to kill like I need to steal.” 

                “You steal what you’re more than wealthy enough by now to buy,” Harleen observed, thinking it was a good time to turn the conversation back to Selina. 

                “I mostly steal what isn’t for sale at any price.  It’s always more fun to take what you’re not supposed to have, wouldn’t you agree?”  Selina leaned back in her chair and stretched out her impossibly long legs under the table. 

                _Oh God, she definitely knew,_ Harleen thought.  “Sometimes the consequences of things aren’t worth the fun.  Do you ever think about the fact that if you went straight, you could be with Batman all the time?”

                _Now, that was so funny that it was a shame the Joker was missing it_ , Selina thought.  “Oh sweetie, he would be bored in a week.  He _likes_ that I’m bad. I’m a level of bad he can deal with, and sometimes I help him because he needs to believe I could be reformed.  Keeps him interested.  You have to give men what they want, not what they think they want.”

                _Interesting,_ Harleen thought.  _That tells me a lot about Batman that could be used against him._ She wanted to tell J – but she had no way of doing that.  It was so frustrating.  Four weeks now.  Four weeks and nothing. 

                And then it hit her.  _Competition,_ Lexi had said. There was an existing competition she could use.  Selina was safely tucked away in here. There was no one to stop her.  It was perfect.  She just had to get his attention.

 

* * *

 

                It was easy enough to find the Bat.  It simply required listening to the police scanner app she’d downloaded on her phone.  If any of Gotham’s major criminals did something newsworthy, it was a safe bet the Bat would show up and that would give Harleen an opportunity to meet him.  It didn’t take long at all for that to happen. 

                The Penguin had taken offense to the Gotham Zoo attempting to expand its Antarctic exhibit and he, along with a specially recruited team of extremist animal rights crusaders, had stopped construction in its tracks with a huge explosion. They were now holding the zoo staff hostage in the monkey house and demanding a million dollars for their release.  It was a scenario sure to attract Batman, and Harleen wasn’t about to miss it. 

                She dressed quickly in an embellished purple t-shirt with a deep v-neck, skinny jeans and boots that were sexy enough but still allowed her to move fast.  Harleen straightened her hair and left it down, deliberately combing it forward and spraying it to partially obscure her face.  A look in the mirror confirmed that she looked different enough from her professional appearance that her colleagues were unlikely to recognize her.  It was time to go.

                Harleen got to the zoo just in time to see the hostages freed. They tumbled out of the monkey house sobbing and running for safety.  Some of the activists were in custody, being handcuffed near the police van, but she didn’t see the Penguin – he must have escaped, as he usually did.  She knew Batman must be near, but the police ringed the facility, keeping everybody away.  Frustrated, Harleen looked for another way in.  She soon found it – some trees that ran along the moat that circled the facility had grown over and provided a perfect route over the barrier, if you were athletic enough to traverse them hand over hand. That wouldn’t be a problem, it was nothing compared to what she’d done in her competitive gymnastics days.  She meandered down the sidewalk as if she were going for a walk, then veered into the tree line.

                She looked back and forth, scanning for police, but they were all busy with crowd control on the other side.  It was easy enough to swing out on the low hanging limbs and maneuver herself down to where she could drop down to a walkway that had a conveniently high railing to use as a step.  She perched on it precariously, but her balance proved as steady as ever, and a few seconds later she was striding down the walkway as if she had every right in the world to be there.  That was a good lesson she had learned from Lexi in college when they were in the habit of crashing weddings in Gotham to get a free meal and all the drinks they could ever want – _always_ look like you belong where you are, and no one is likely to question you.  

She couldn’t help but think how proud Mr. J would be if he could see her now.

Harleen came to a diagram of the zoo and headed in the direction of the monkey house.  She rounded a corner and almost ran into the reason she had come.

“Ma’am, you shouldn’t be here.  The Penguin is still at large.”

Batman, in person, was an imposing figure. He was even taller than the Joker and much more broadly built, with a deep voice and a strong jawline.  _I see what Selina sees in you,_ Harleen thought.  If she hadn’t been otherwise attracted, she might have given her some competition.

Harleen smiled sweetly and pushed her hair back from her face.  “Actually, I’m here to see you. I’m Selina’s doctor.” She extended her hand and he took it.  He looked uncertain, which delighted her. 

“Is she okay?” he asked.

“She’s just fine,” Harleen assured him. “Actually, she’s making great progress.  I really believe she wants to change.” 

Harleen knew she was violating every rule of professional ethics with this conversation but if it was going to accomplish her goal, well, she had already done worse.   She heard the faint voice of Logical Harleen start to say something snarky about the ends justifying the means, but that voice was getting easier and easier to ignore. 

“She’s better than the life she has chosen to lead,” Batman said.  “I want her to see that.”

“I think she has some concerns about what her life would be like.  Crime is all she knows, and she will always have a record haunting her. It won’t be easy for her to move on.”

Batman paused for a moment then looked back at her.  “I can guarantee her a fresh start, if she really wants it.”

 _Good Lord, he’s completely in love with her, he’s willing to break rules for her and he’s the most law-and-order guy in this town!_ Harleen was fascinated.  Love truly was the strongest force in the universe, and she was still looking for an example of a time when it was overridden by morals. Hadn’t found it yet.  _I should write a paper on this,_ she thought.

Just then, the sky lit up. Batman drew an arm around her protectively and moved her away to safety as the news helicopter landed beside them to cover the story. 

 _This went even better than I planned,_ thought Harleen.

 

* * *

 

 

                The picture of Harleen with Batman’s arm around her was on the cover of the next day’s paper.  To the average observer, all that could be seen was Batman protecting a slender blonde woman who could have been anyone. The wind kicked up by the helicopter had her hair flying all around her, but the Joker recognized her immediately.  He had spent too many hours staring at that body to mistake it for any other woman.

                He was livid. He didn’t think he had ever been so angry. He had been pacing his apartment all morning and throwing knives at the wall. Almost took out Jonny when he foolishly tried to ask a question.  Jonny had beaten a hasty retreat and left his boss to his temper tantrum.  He had no idea what it was about, but he knew when to leave the boss alone and this was definitely one of those times.

                “How DARE you!” the Joker screamed at nothing.  _She was his, what the fuck was the Bat thinking, he wasn’t allowed to touch her, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near her, what was she even doing there, why wasn’t she sitting in her apartment where he could watch her, what the fuck was she doing running around a crime scene in painted-on jeans and snuggling with the fucking BAT? What the fucking fuck?_

He _hated_ feeling out of control. It was his least favorite feeling in the world.  One of the reasons he enjoyed power so much was power made people predictable. They didn’t want to cross him. They did as they were told.  He knew where he stood – always. Right now?  He had no fucking idea where he stood and he was so angry his hands were shaking.

 _You blew her off,_ he reminded himself. 

 _I don’t fucking CARE!_ He answered himself just as loudly.  _What’s mine is mine, whether I want it or not.  MINE!_

But he did want her…

               He certainly hadn’t put in as much time as he had for her to flit off to some other guy in a lousy month.  She was supposed to be obsessed with him forever.  She was supposed to go back to her lonely, workaholic existence and dream of him at night and wake up shaking and soaked in sweat and dying for his touch.  She was supposed to cry herself to sleep after watching romantic movies with happy endings, knowing she would never get her own. 

                She was most certainly _not_ supposed to be perfectly fine and snuggling _in front of the news cameras_ with the fucking Bat of all people. It was an insult to him. It was unimaginable. 

                There was a pain in his chest running all the way down into the pit of his stomach, and a nagging small voice he rarely heard filling him with doubt.  Had she forgotten?  Had he imagined the whole thing?  Maybe –

                He snatched a knife out of the wall and swiped it across his own forearm. The pain brought him back to reality and he watched the line of blood drip from the slice in his shirt sleeve.  He stood there, taking deep breaths and trying to think.

                It was time to remind Dr. Quinzel who owned her. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Harleen got the Joker's attention...now let's see if she regrets her tactics. ;-)

                Harleen sat in her office, playing with her electrical globe and trying to come up with the nerve to leave for the day. It had been a good day.  While the prison grapevine had accurately informed Selina that Harleen had been at the zoo last night, Selina’s desire to hear exactly what Batman had said had overridden any concern she had about the two meeting, and Harleen had come up with a believable story about being a zoo volunteer who happened to be on site when the hostage situation took place.  And no one else at work had recognized Harleen from the newspaper picture.   She had managed the situation perfectly – but she still didn’t know if it had worked to get the Joker’s attention.   Or if she even wanted that.

                _You want him, you just aren’t sure you want the consequences of him, but you can’t have one without the other._

                So here she sat, afraid to leave the relative safety of her desk at Arkham.  If he was as jealous and angry as she predicted, he would not be able to resist contacting her, if only to yell at her and threaten her, and she’d take that over being ignored. 

                _Well, that’s healthy!_ Logical Harleen was back, sarcastic as ever. 

                Harleen pushed the thought away, picked up her purse and exited her office. She walked to her car turning around every three steps to make sure no one was sneaking up on her…but the parking lot was empty and silent. 

                _What if nothing works?  What if I never see him again?_

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about.  She started her car and prepared to leave, but she smelled something odd coming out of the heat vents.  _Great,_ she thought, _just what I need, a repair-_

She was unconscious before she finished the thought.  A second later, Jonny reached inside and shut off the car’s ignition.  He picked up Harleen effortlessly – _jeez, she must hardly weigh a hundred pounds –_ and deposited her in the back of the limo.  Sliding into the driver’s seat, he paused only to send a text.

 

Got her, she’s fine. Heading back.

 

* * *

 

                Harleen woke up slowly, her head pounding and her mouth unnaturally dry.  What – she kept her eyes closed for a moment, trying to remember what had happened.  Had she passed out?  She slowly opened her eyes to see a tall, bearded man at the foot of the bed, watching her. 

                She sat bolt upright. “Who are you?  Where am I?”  It definitely wasn't a hospital.  She had never seen so many guns in her life.

                _Not scared,_ Jonny observed. _More pissed off_. Maybe she wasn’t just another dumb blonde girl that he could have picked up ten of with less trouble.  “You don’t get answers.  You’re here to give answers.”  

                She tried to speak again but started coughing, her tongue sticking to the dry roof of her mouth.  The bearded man disappeared for a second and came back with a cold bottle of water.  Harleen opened it and drank until she could speak again.  "To whose questions?"

                As if on cue, the Joker entered the room, and it was impossible not to get the immediate impression of royalty. No, not the royalty of any civilized state, but a king of the underworld, the overlord of all the vice and sin known to man.  He wore a fitted purple jacket that went almost to his knees over a white silk shirt that was open to show off his tattoos.  Tight black pants, dress shoes, and more gold on him than a televangelist’s wife.  His green hair shone brilliantly in the brightly lit room.  Harleen had never seen him in anything but prison clothes before. The effect was breathtaking. 

                “Out,” he said to Jonny and Jonny removed himself without another word.  The Joker slowly approached but stopped at the end of the bed.

                “Well, well.  We meet again.”

                “If you consider drugging me and having some goon deliver me like a pizza a meeting.” Harleen was aware that being snarky might not be a wise choice, but she was irritated enough not to care.  She had wanted to see him, and she was relieved he was behind her kidnapping and not someone else, but she was still angry about getting drugged and manhandled by some Neanderthal of a henchman. 

                The Joker smiled slowly. It was taking all he had not to simply dive onto the bed with her but that wouldn’t do.  _Weakness,_ he thought. 

                “I can have him take you back."  He gestured magnanimously at the door.   "Would you like to go?”  

                _Bluff called,_ Harleen thought, still groggy from the drugs. Would she like to go?  No.

                “Why am I here?”

                He looked at her like she was stupid and rolled his eyes dramatically.

                “You’ve been an _extremely_ naughty girl, Harleen. I woke up, hadn’t even had _coffee_ and then I saw _that._ ”  He waved at the wall. She saw the newspaper article with the picture of herself and Batman was there – held to the wall by 6 or 7 knives that looked like they had been thrown at it.

                “Working out your _frustrations_ , Mr. J?” Harleen inquired sweetly. 

                “You…” he growled under his breath and she shivered slightly.  She couldn’t stop staring at the view of his chest and abs where the shirt lay open.  He walked a step closer and stopped.  “I don’t take disrespect lightly, Doctor Quinzel.  _Most_ people would already be dead if they talked to me like that.”

                “I’m not _most_ people.  And calm down, I was just talking to him about Selina.” 

                “Quite the professional discussion, with your ass in his crotch on the front page of the newspaper!”

                Harleen shrugged.  “I’m single.  I slept with this guy about a month ago but the jerk never called.”

                He shook his head in amazement at her audacity but moved a step closer.  “Do you have any… _idea_ …how much I’ve thought about killing you?”

                She looked straight into his crystal blue eyes.  “Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about fucking you?” 

                _Done_ , he thought.  The next second he was on top of her, forcing both wrists above her head in a painful grip.  “Maybe we’ll both get our wish tonight.” He started cackling and she thought about how much she had missed it.  “I’m not sure in what order.  Figure that out as we go along.”  Still holding her wrists, he brought his face to hers and growled his words into her mouth.  “You’re a fucking brat, you know that?”

                “Learned from the best,” she whispered hoarsely as his mouth closed in on hers. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In all fairness to Dr. Quinzel, I would probably lose my own sense of self-preservation as well somewhere between Prada and Gucci...

Harleen woke up to a knock on the door that seemed to vibrate straight through her pounding head.  She heard voices in the other room and a moment later the Joker emerged with a couple of bags, which he deposited on a tray next to her on the bed. 

“Breakfast!” he cheerfully announced.   He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black sweat pants, and she knew she was staring.

“Thank you,” she croaked. She looked to her right and saw a Starbucks cup sitting on the nightstand, still so hot that a faint wisp of steam rose from the top. _Skim caramel macchiato,_ she thought as she deciphered the abbreviations on the cup. She took a sip and looked at him.  “You got it right. Is there anything about me you don’t know?”

He chuckled, “After last night, I doubt it. Learned a few new things.”

Harleen felt herself turning red as flashes of the evening came back to her.  _Some of those were news to me, too,_ she thought.  Both of her wrists were purpling with new bruises, her bracelet had left a perfect, purple imprint on one, her mouth felt swollen, the back of her throat ached, and she could feel a burning soreness between her legs if she shifted position at all.  The shivering in her stomach had turned into a constant sensation.  She remembered grinding herself into him, unable to get close enough, and she inadvertently let out a small sigh and bit her lower lip. 

“Stop that,” he ordered.  “Eat your breakfast.”

Obediently, Harleen picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled at it.  She looked at the nightstand to see if her phone was there, or a clock. What time _was_ it? She was supposed to be at work today.  He saw her looking.

“You don’t need to be anywhere,” he told her.  “Your brother told them you had a family emergency and were too upset to come to the phone. _So_ sad about your aunt.”  Her face lit up with alarm, which only served to make him laugh.  “No one’s dead…yet.  Too early for that.” 

She was being quieter than usual, he noticed, but he knew she had a lot going on in her head and it didn’t concern him.  Harleen would overthink the situation, that was her nature, but he had at least 25 new ways to stop that pesky thinking thing now.  Last night had been _very_ educational.   She’d had no idea who she really was and he had been more than happy to show her.  _Lexi would love her,_ he thought.  _When I get bored with her, I can drop her off there…like the animal shelter._ He smiled at the thought and noticed her looking at him suspiciously. 

It was easier to eat than to talk and she was starving, so she concentrated on breakfast and coffee.  Logical Harleen had woken up as well and was starting to put unwelcome thoughts into her head about the likelihood she would wind up dead and never see Arkham or her own apartment again.  How many had the Joker killed?  She wasn’t sure anybody had been able to keep track.  He was indisputably the most lethal man in Gotham, no one knew that better than she did, yet here she was, naked in his bed, in an apartment she was certain was more secure than Arkham. No one knew where she was and –

“My car.  They’re going to wonder if it’s in the parking lot and I’m not there.”

“Your car is here.  Do you think I’ve turned stupid?”  He was a little offended that she thought he would be so careless.

“I – I’m sorry. I just don’t want-“ she stopped short.

The Joker knew what she was going to say.  _Sorry, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what you want. Now we’re operating based upon what I want._ But it wasn’t quite time for that message.  He smiled as sweetly as he could. 

“Everything is fine.  Finish your breakfast, take a shower.  Your clothes are in the closet.  We’re going shopping at ten.”  He picked up his phone and headed out, closing the bedroom door behind him.

She stared at the door for a long while after he had gone.  Going shopping sounded good – being out in the real world where she could scream for help if she needed it sounded excellent.  _Except you lack the self-preservation to do that,_ she reminded herself.  What if she was seen with him?  He wasn’t an inconspicuous figure.  _You’re supposed to be at a funeral, and you’re going to run around Gotham with an infamous, green haired, murderous clown?_ That _won’t get anyone’s attention._

She wanted him more than she thought she could want anything.  She could never say that she didn’t know what he was really like; she knew exactly.  He was an addiction she had no power to fight off, and it was the nature of addictions to destroy their host.  She knew how to overcome an addiction; she was professionally trained in it, after all – the problem was, she had no desire to. 

 _That’s probably true of most addicts,_ she thought, munching on buttered toast and wondering where her phone was.  Most likely in a million pieces. After all, who did she need to talk to who wasn’t him?  She could just imagine it going through his mind.   _He probably hunted through it in the middle of the night looking for texts from Batman_.  Revving up a madman with jealousy was probably not the smartest thing she’d ever done, but it had been _so_ effective.  She remembered him holding her down last night as he thrust into her, remembered the overwhelming pleasure that had made it impossible to do anything except live in the moment.

_“Who do you belong to?” he’d asked her._

_Fortunately, it was an easy answer that didn’t require her to think.  “You. I’m all yours.”_

_“That’s right, mine, to do with as…I…wish,” he hissed into her ear._

_“Anything…anything you want.  Yours.”  She curled her lower back, pressing even harder up to meet him and moaned._

_“Never…disobey…me…again,” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust and she came so hard she couldn’t stop herself from screaming.  He clamped a hand over her mouth and she heard the laughter come up from deep in his throat._

Harleen knew she was kidding herself if she thought there was any chance of turning back now. If there had been a title for her soul, she’d have gleefully signed it over last night.  She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, wincing at all of the things that hurt.  _There had better be painkillers in that medical cabinet_ , she thought as she headed for the bathroom.   

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, she was dressed and ready to go.  She couldn’t do much with only a comb and a hairdryer, so she left her hair down and allowed the natural waves to take over.  At least that would make it easier to hide her face if she saw someone she knew. 

She thought she looked reasonably normal.  There were bites on her neck and lip but she’d covered them pretty well with makeup.  There was no shortage of makeup in that bathroom, and all of it theatrical quality.  _If you’re going to pick a murderous criminal to have an affair with and you want to be discreet about your sex-related injuries, a clown is definitely the way to go._

Harleen told herself to stop worrying about being spotted. _Gotham is a big city,_ she thought, _and I don’t think we’re going to anywhere the underpaid employees of Arkham shop._ She sat down on the bed to wait, but the Joker walked in as though he’d been watching her the whole time. Probably had.

He had toned down his look considerably from the previous night, and now he looked for all the world like a rock star in between gigs, with jeans as skinny as the ones she’d worn to meet Batman, biker boots, and a flannel shirt over a white tank top. Most of his tattoos were covered over with makeup and the green hair had been replaced with a temporary wash of brown. His eyes were hidden behind expensive sunglasses.  She was impressed by the transformation.

 “I don’t need the Bat chasing me every time I want to grab a latte,” he explained.  “And I have business interests who know me under another name.”  He cackled and she smiled.  

“So what are we shopping for?”

“Why you, my dear. If I have to see you in one more piece of third world shit from the Kathie Lee collection, I’m going to _vomit_.”  He growled at the thought of it and she was immediately ashamed.

“They’ve been promising me a raise but it hasn’t happened yet.”

He took her hand.  “Lesson number one:  Do not wait for things to happen. Make things happen.”  With that, he led her out the door and down the stairs to the waiting limo. 

* * *

An hour later, they had been through Versace and Prada and moved on to Gucci.  The Joker had Jonny making almost continuous trips to the car with the bags and, much to Harleen’s surprise and relief, he was whipping out an American Express card and appeared to be legitimately paying for everything.  She had no idea how much they had already spent.  Dresses, tops, insanely overpriced jeans, sunglasses, jewelry, shoes she wasn’t sure she could walk in – all had been loaded in the car. It was all really hers. 

 _You might die,_ she noted, _but you will die looking spectacular with a smile on your face._ She turned around and looked at herself in the dressing room mirror at Gucci.   Harleen had exactly the kind of body this dress was made for – her slim gymnast’s form was a perfect match for the royal purple and gold backless dress with strategic cut-outs at the sides of the hip.    She stood on her tip toes, imagining how it would look with heels on.  Suddenly Mr. J was behind her.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” she hissed before he covered her mouth. 

“I have such a _long_ history of doing what I’m _supposed_ to do,” he whispered back, removing his hand and replacing it with his mouth.  His hands traveled down her bare back as he kissed her, then he slid one up the dress to touch her through her panties. She felt his smile against her mouth as he realized how wet she was.  _I can’t stop it when you’re around,_ she thought.

“Not tired out yet?  Good girl,” he growled softly.  He started to move his fingers back and forth across the thin fabric and she nearly collapsed, leaning against him to save herself.  She had to bite his shoulder to keep herself quiet as he continued.  His touch was feather light and it was driving her insane.  She squirmed and tried to push herself toward him but he held her steady with an implacable hand on her hip bone.

“Please…” she whispered.

“No, and if you ask me again, I won’t touch you for a week.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her face against his shoulder and willed herself not to make a noise. He wouldn’t go any faster or any harder, he wouldn’t slip inside to touch her flesh no matter how much she wanted it.  He just continued the action until she started to shake and came hard, soaking her panties and his hand with her fluids.  She raised her head and watched him bring his hand to his mouth and suck her juices off his fingers one by one. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.  He looked down, inspecting her. 

“I think we’re going to have to buy that one,” he observed, seeing the obvious wet spot on the fabric. Harleen looked down and turned red.  “How am I going to get it out of here?”

“Ask the nice lady to wrap it up for you, just like she’s done for everything else, Pumpkin.”

“But-“

He looked at her, questioning.  “What?  Are you ashamed?  You’d better decide if you’re proud or ashamed.  Right now.”  The Joker’s voice was still quiet but it had an unmistakable edge of anger to it, and Harleen knew she had better choose wisely.

“Proud.”  She pulled on her clothes and threw the dress over her arm, leaving the fitting room without even bothering to comb her hair that had gotten scrunched up against the mirror.  _Very good girl,_ he thought, and followed her out. 

Tonight would be the real test.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a typical night at the club, and by typical, I mean bloody.

                When they returned, she was relieved to find out the Joker had some meetings to go to and intended to leave her at home to catch up on her sleep. She was so sleep-deprived, she could hardly finish a sentence and her eyes burned.  Harleen crawled back into bed and fell asleep immediately, far too tired to dream. 

                She woke up as a box was dumped at the end of the bed, and sat up quickly to see what it was. 

                “Time to play dress up!”  The Joker was back and looking like himself again. Tonight he was dressed in a gold jacket that somehow didn’t look over the top when it was on him, with a deep purple shirt and fitted black trousers underneath. 

                Harleen tilted her head. “Do any of your shirts close?”

                “Now, Pumpkin, why would I want to obstruct the view?  I would _hate_ to have you start thinking with your brain again and ruin all the fun we’ve been having.” 

                She rolled her eyes, knowing this was one time she’d get away with it.  “So what do I get to wear, Puddin?” If he was going straight for the cute names, so was she.  Harleen peeked into the box and moved aside tissue paper to find what looked like a catsuit in a red and black diamond pattern.

                “Much as I _hate_ the thought of covering you up unnecessarily, I thought about it and it’s in our best interests to keep your identity our little secret.  Selina is a business associate of mine, despite her _abominable_ taste in men, and it’ll be easier to get her out of Arkham if you still have access. Sadly, a lot of my friends are no longer employed there…or anywhere.” He chuckled.

                Harleen nodded.  She knew there was no point in debating whether she would help him. She would, and she was actually relieved that he intended for her to go back to work.  Helping him get Selina out hardly even tweaked what remained of her professional ethics…Selina had never belonged in a mental institution and she suspected they would be friends on the outside. 

                She dressed in the suit, and let the Joker make up her face.  It was weird to have a man doing her makeup, but she kept as still as she could and let him work.   She was excited by the idea of being totally anonymous.  It wouldn’t matter at all what she did…she could be a different person. 

                He finished her face and brought her a mirror so that she could check herself out. She was absolutely unrecognizable with the costume, hat, and thick theatrical makeup.  But still sexy in a quirky way, she thought.  It would work. 

                “Now you just need an alias,” the Joker pointed out.  “I had the perfect idea.  Harleen Quinzel becomes Harley Quinn.  Like Harlequin, with a little twist!  It’s perfect and close enough that you’ll answer to it without having to think too hard,” he chuckled.

                She pouted a bit.  “I think I’ve still got sufficient brain cells to remember what name I answer to when I’m dressed up like a someone who pops out of a jack-in-the-box.”

                “Don’t get sassy with me, Dr. Quinzel,” he growled.  “Sassy girls get spankings until they learn how to behave.”

                Harleen just grinned at him.

                “You _would_ like that. _Later_.”  He took her hand and they headed out the door.

* * *

Harleen – or Harley, she reminded herself – was having the time of her life.  The Joker seemed perfectly comfortable conducting business with her at his side, occasionally motioning for her to fetch him another drink, which she was happy to do.   There hadn’t been a visitor this evening who hadn’t done a double take at the sight of a shapely, costumed female sitting with the Joker. Their body language made it undeniably clear they were together. 

 _There’s been no one else,_ Harley thought happily.  _I’m it.  They’re all surprised to see him with a woman._ She sipped her drink slowly and remembered the rules he had given her:  Sit down and be quiet because you’re in a strange land and you don’t know which of the natives bite yet. That was extremely accurate; before tonight, Harley had never even seen an illegal drug much less sat at a table where the transport details of millions of dollars of it were being discussed.  A strange land indeed, but one that she felt weirdly comfortable in.  She debated with herself whether her comfort level was due to J’s presence or – a much more sobering thought – the fact that she was no better than these people, was in fact herself a criminal personality who had simply lacked the right opportunity to show her true colors. 

 _Your morality level has never been anything to write home about,_ she thought.  She had never minded playing a little fast and loose with the rules.  As a teenage runaway working at the Bahama Club with a fake ID, she’d seen fights. She’d even seen a few shootings.  And one time, she saw a guy dragging a dancer into a room against her will as the girl screamed and fought.  She pretended she didn’t see them, and kept serving drinks.  Harleen needed her job – it was that job or go home to a disgusting stepfather who regularly molested her.   Other people would have to fend for themselves.  

 _The end justifies the means._ Funny how that concept kept coming up in her life.

She remembered college psychology and the discussions about how it is human nature to act in our own self-interest.  People frequently do so even if cooperating with another person might yield a better result.  The dominant strategy was always self-interest, even in people who had normal levels of empathy.  The empath might cry at violence to others, but what they _did_ in response might not vary from the action of the sociopath, who felt nothing.  It was a rare man indeed who took a bullet for someone else – even someone he loved.

Harley stretched her legs out and admired her new boots.  They were Prada, black and came up past her knees, made of butter soft leather.  She had been absently stroking them all night. J was right, there was nothing like quality – and quality was not cheap.  Harley knew drugs ruined lives, but if Mr. J wasn’t in the business of supplying them, someone else would.  His illegal activities were no worse than many of the perfectly legal activities Ben and his parents had been involved in, like manufacturing products in third-world countries where they could utilize child labor for pennies.  The more time Harley had spent around wealthy people, the more she saw that they were almost always involved in something that was questionable, legally or morally or both.  At least Mr. J. was honest about who he was.  He wasn’t going to church on Sunday mornings and pretending he cared about other people.    

Harley heard a strange sound, almost like a whip, and then a circle of blood formed on the forehead of one of the men sitting across from her.  The man looked surprised and toppled like a tree into the middle of the table, knocking over drinks.  A second later all hell broke loose and Jonny had her by the wrist, yanking her away from the booth to the other side of the room.  It hurt and she tried to twist free but he was far too strong. 

 _Where was J?_ It seemed like bullets were everywhere and she kept fighting to get free, trying to run back to the booth.  She caught a glimpse of the Joker’s gold coat but he was surrounded in the melee and she couldn’t really see him. Then she saw him punching a guy who went down, blood flying across the room in an arc from his battered face.  The Joker turned to the right and took aim at another goon coming from that direction.  Above her head, Jonny fired his weapon, swiftly taking out two more before they made it all the way through the door of the VIP room.

Harley saw with horror that one of the bodies on the ground wasn’t really dead.  The woman lying there had managed to reach a pistol that shot-in-the-head guy had in a holster on his hip, and she was pointing it right at J’s head.  _He couldn’t see her because she was on the ground_ , Harley realized with horror.  She threw everything she had into wrenching away from Jonny’s tight grip and her foot shot out to kick the woman violently in the wrist.  The pistol went flying and skittered away on the floor.  A second later, Jonny had put a bullet in the woman’s head.

He looked down at the petite blonde next to him.  “Good job,” he told her, sounding surprised.  Harley realized it was quiet now; the fight was over.  Eight or nine bodies littered the floor or stretched across the table and the Joker was coming toward her with a huge smile amid the splattered blood on his face.  He picked her up and swung her in a circle, laughing like she’d just told him the best joke in the world.

“I just _knew_ those boots were going to be a good investment!”  The Joker was gleeful.  Harley was still shaking all over, but managed to smile. She knew he’d be disappointed in her if she didn’t. A small voice in the back of her head said _accessory to murder_ and another drowned it out saying _self defense.  Was it still self defense if you kept your boyfriend from being shot?  Was he her boyfriend_?  She snuggled into his side and determined she would think about this tomorrow.  _Survived my first gunfight,_ Harley thought.  _Probably shouldn’t make that my Facebook status._

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand to lead her out.  _I’m stepping over dead bodies,_ she thought, _and I’m most worried about not getting my new boots dirty.  Who the hell am I?_ she wondered.  “Jonny, I think we’ll stay at the penthouse tonight.” 

“You got it boss. The cleaning guys are on their way,” Frost led the way out the back door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another Saturday night in Gotham City...kids, _don't_ try this at home. ;-)

                Harley had remained quiet on the drive, thinking.  It was only two days since she’d been in her office writing reports, a respected professional in her field, and here she was in a costume with blood spatters from the woman who’d died at her feet and partially by her hand – er, foot.  And after her initial shock, which she was pretty sure was caused mostly by her fear someone would shoot the Joker, she was fine with it.  She didn’t feel any real guilt. The woman was going to take a shot at him; she didn’t know why but why didn’t matter. 

                _You would have done the same to a police officer taking a shot at him,_ Logical Harleen piped up. That was an uncomfortable thought but an unavoidable one. _Just once_ , she thought, _it would be nice to be stupid and not have to think everything in life through to its logical conclusion._  

                On his part, the Joker was pleasantly surprised.  His little plaything had turned out to have good instincts in a fight and a sharp eye, and she might have indeed saved his life.  She had been rattled by it, but she hadn’t done any of the things he would have expected her to do.  No crying.  No hysterics.  Not even a comment about nine people killed right in front of her, or about anything she had heard tonight.

                He was right when he first thought he saw it, back at Arkham.  She was a sociopath like himself. _She still thinks she cares about people but she’s just been going through the motions and making the right responses her whole life.  When she’s in an environment where doesn’t have to do those things, she doesn’t do them.  And_ she _thought she was going to analyze_ me _,_ he thought gleefully _._

                She was so good at it that she had completely fooled herself…or maybe not, but either way she hadn’t admitted it to herself.  That much he knew.  She still needed to be able to tell herself she was a good person and it would take a while to break that down, but it could be done.  Correction, would be done. 

                He had to watch himself more closely than her.  He could never be weak.  Weakness was death.  If the day ever came when he felt like he couldn’t shoot her without regret, then she had to go. She had taken off the hat in the car, and snuggled against him, her blonde head against his chest.  He liked it a little too much; the line had begun to blur for him.  He usually didn’t like to be touched.  Even the women he took to bed in the past (and bed was a stretch, a dark corner in the club was more common), he liked to minimize the contact to what was necessary. Their mouth, their cunt, he’d touch what he wanted to touch but they weren’t to touch him. They could keep their hands to themselves and if they didn’t, he’d tie them up and make sure they did.   But Harley was different and he didn’t feel the usual need to push her away or keep her in her place. It was…unsettling, but he still felt very much in control. In fact, he felt great. 

                Jonny drove the car into an underground garage; but it wasn’t the usual one.  Harley was immediately alert.  She hoped he hadn’t brought her somewhere different to kill her.  She was still in his arms and he felt the tension in her body and smiled.  If he ever _did_ want to kill her, he wouldn’t be able to give her a single clue leading up to it. He wondered if she’d fight back.  What he saw so far led him to believe she might be capable of killing _him_ and that thought made him so excited that he couldn’t wait to get her inside.

                He helped her out of the car and led her to the elevator without a word.  He’d decided the funniest option was to stay completely silent and watch her face as she tried to figure out what was going on.  It was fascinating to him how she could be this nervous and scared and still follow his lead.  And she wasn’t asking questions either, which he loved. 

                They got into the elevator and he leaned over to press a finger onto a sensor, lighting up the button for the penthouse.  _Fingerprint scanner,_ she thought. _About as secure as it gets, much better than Arkham’s system._ She watched him, half-expecting him to grab her – didn’t men always do that in elevators? – but he had no intention of being predictable and had other plans.  It was more fun to keep her in suspense.   He would keep his expression as blank as possible.  He knew she _hated_ that.

                The doors opened to the penthouse and she walked out first. One entire wall was glass and the view of Gotham City was undeniably spectacular.   She looked across the rooftops to the lights shining on the water of the harbor.  It seemed they were looking down on everything else in the city, and she was sure that was exactly the reason Mr. J liked it; it would perfectly suit his aesthetic of the natural order of things. He was at the very top – and she was at his side. 

                “Like the view?” he whispered into her ear.   He was standing behind her but hadn’t touched her.   She turned to look at him.

                “I like this one better,” she said, and heard him make that _sound_ deep in his throat that was something between a purr and a growl, the noise of a feral animal about to pounce on his prey. It drove her crazy.  He leaned in as if to kiss her but whispered into her mouth instead.

                “Take your clothes off.”

                She crouched down to unzip the boots, then stood up and turned around so he could unzip the catsuit and let it fall to the ground. It was surprisingly easy to get out of, and she suspected he’d had a hand in its design.  By the time she turned around, his jacket and his shirt were off and she melted back into him. He kissed her neck and she moaned softly.  A moment later, his hands curled around her and she was lifted, her back pushed against that massive glass wall.  And he wasn’t being careful about it.  She felt the cold glass vibrate against her body from the impact.

                _If it breaks, we’re both dead,_ she realized.  But his mouth was still on her neck, kissing and biting his way down to her collarbone.  He was so warm against her; the glass was icy cold and the combined effect was driving her crazy.  She wrapped her legs around him and felt how hard he was.   Harley just didn’t have the power to say no.  Her hand was already working at the button on his pants and soon she had him free.  He slid inside her and she threw her head back; even as sore as she still was, the pleasure was so great she almost couldn’t bear it.  She moaned into his ear and he slammed her up against the glass…again and again and again.

                “Would you die for me?” he whispered hoarsely. 

                “Yes,” she responded, and in that moment, she absolutely meant it.

                And then they were kissing again and his tongue was in her mouth and everything in her body felt like it had been electrified. She imagined the glass breaking; plunging them out in the icy night to their deaths and it didn’t matter.  _He was the only thing that mattered in the world and together they were a creation she couldn’t describe, something so grand that laws and logic and fate and justice should not dare to interfere with it._ She ran her fingers through his thick hair and wondered how she had survived this long without him.  Harley could see them in the mirror across the room in the moonlight, could see the dim outline of her blonde hair tumbling over his shoulder, and she thought _this is the happiest I have ever been or will be, and I’m more scared of not dying, I’m scared this will end and I’ll still be alive._

                He spun her around then and they fell to the carpet and he was grinding into her in slow circles. The Joker whispered into her ear, “Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy.”  His words took her over the edge; even her body couldn’t disobey his commands.  She arched up into him, wrapping her legs around him and trying to force their bodies closer together…it was never close enough for her. She wanted to melt together and become part of him and never let him go.

                “God, Harley,” he hissed into her ear. “You’re so fucking hot…”

                She came again at his words and she heard his deep growl as he reached his own climax.  They lay there for a moment.

                “So…unbreakable glass?”  She questioned when she got her breath back.  _Had to be, right? They were still alive._  

                “Unbreakable and bulletproof,” The Joker stood up and helped her to her feet.   “Come on, there _is_ actually a bedroom here so we can get some sleep.”

He put his arm around her and led her toward the room. Just before they reached the door, he paused for a second and then picked up a round, polished stone that sat on the bookshelf next to the door. With a smile, he turned and chucked it at the window like he was throwing a baseball.  Glass shattered.  Harley gasped, staring at the jagged edges.  The Joker grinned.

                “I lie a lot, remember?  It’s in your notes.  Maybe you should review them on Monday.”

                “I hate you,” she replied.

                 He shrugged, his face the picture of innocence.  “That’s okay, you’ll still fuck me no matter how much you hate me.”

                Harley let out an exasperated sigh.  “I hate that most of all.”

                “I know.”    

 

 THE END...for now.  Hope you enjoyed!

 


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